


바보 (Pabo)

by chasingatinydream



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-17 08:47:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21051593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chasingatinydream/pseuds/chasingatinydream
Summary: hongjoong tries his best, but in the end, san’s still a big pabo, and still the man you fell in love with.





	바보 (Pabo)

“Is everything ready?”

“Yes, hyung. The ambiance is perfect, Seonghwa-hyung is putting the second batch of popcorn in the microwave, and we have successfully hacked into Mingi’s Netflix account.” Yeosang reports as he steps into his leader’s bedroom, carrying two bowls of popcorn, one salted and one caramel. Hongjoong grabs the two bowls as fast as he can and proceeds to remove every last unpopped kernel from the bowl at the speed of light, determination burning in his eyes; none shall escape him.

“Yah, you didn’t hack it, you and Yunho just tickled me till gave the password to you!” Mingi blusters in protest from the hallway, cheeks tinged red as Hongjoong’s attention continues to be completely riveted on assaulting the popcorn, a small hill of unpopped kernels growing next to him. Yeosang raises an eyebrow at the younger member, thoroughly amused.

“It’s alright, you know we don’t judge what you watch, Mingi.” He says matter of factly, but the way Mingi’s face turns fire engine red in a matter of seconds shows that he doesn’t believe that one bit. Hongjoong pauses in the process of sorting out the popcorn, looking up slowly at his member to quirk an eyebrow. “…What exactly is Mingi watching?”

Yeosang opens his mouth to answer, but Mingi beats him to it, rushing in with a “I am a mature man who can watch anything he wants! I have no shame, but you cannot intrude upon my privacy like this, it is my personal tastes and I can enjoy appropriate and deeply emotional shows for my age-”

“He was binge watching all seven seasons of My Little Pony on Netflix. Completely valid, by the way.” Yeosang cuts in with a shrug, popping a caramel popcorn into his mouth. “Friendship is magic.”

Hongjoong keeps the tiny snicker in his mouth as he sifts through the bowl with his fingertips, checking for anymore miscreants that have managed to escape his eye. The deep voiced rapper groans, buries his face in Hongjoong’s minion plush, ears clearly turning bright pink. “I… I have no shame…"

“Sure, Mingi.”

“Anyways, Yeosang,” Hongjoong turns to the vocalist leaning against the door frame, “have you contacted… you know who yet? Are San and Wooyoung back from snack shopping? How long more do we have left?” 

“Daddy’s home!” San’s voice rings out through the dorm and Yeosang barely manages to repress a snort. “Snacks!” Mingi cheers, rushing outside and nearly tripping over the popcorn bowl (“Mingi!” Hongjoong screams in alarm) in his haste. The leader breathes a sigh of relief when the popcorn escapes unscathed, holding it close like it’s his firstborn child, “Ohhh, thank God…”

“You’re really into this, aren’t you?” Yeosang comments as the noise of Wooyoung and Yunho squabbling over dominance of the remote drifts into the room. Hongjoong lets out a long suffering sigh, eyes closing with all the burdens he has endured.

“The two of them have been dancing around each other for as long as I can remember,” He groans in exasperation, dragging a hand across his face. “At first it was funny watching San-ie being an idiot, but now it’s just sad and depressing.”

Yeosang hides a laugh behind a polite cough as his leader continues to rant so fast he sounds like he’s practicing a new rap. “I swear to god, every time I see the two of in this awkward I clearly like you and am trying to flirt with you but you have the emotional awareness the size of a teaspoon so I think you just see me as a friend nonsense I just… I just feel myself slowly dying on the inside. He comes to me all the time to talk to me about you know who and he practices confessing to me without ever trying it himself in the first place and if I hear one more word about how he thinks they’re just friends I am going to kill him in sleep.” An amused smile grows on one corner of Yeosang’s mouth. “It physically hurts. It takes a mental toll on me. It’s like acid eating away at me. It’s like being struck by lightning repeatedly in the face. And if it goes on for another day I am going to scream.” He finally takes a deep breath, fanning his cheeks when he realises he’s run out of breath. “Wow. That was emotional. I should turn those into some song lyrics for our next comeback.”

The younger vocalist snickers and there’s a crash outside, the sound of the couch falling over, and Seonghwa’s horrified shout of “you pabos!” from the kitchen. “It’ll be fun to see how this turns out, at the very least.” He says as Hongjoong rises to his feet, carrying the bowls of popcorn with him. Before he turns to leave the room, he pauses to tell Hongjoong, “you do know, when you were sorting through the popcorn, you ended up mixing them in the same bowl, right?”

Hongjoong frowns deeply at the bowl for a second as Yeosang heads for the chaos of the living room, studying the contents. Then realisation dawns on his face, and he groans, fighting the urge to smack his forehead into the wall. “I’m such an idiot.”

“I agree!” Yeosang calls from the hallway, and Hongjoong gives a good natured roll of the eyes before moving to join his members outside, salty caramel popcorn and all.

He’s going to make everything perfect down to the last cushion they sit on, play winged cupid for the two of them and hopefully, tonight is the night the torture will end. And maybe at their wedding, he’ll get to be the best man and San will give a long speech about how he everything to Hongjoong for the start of their beautiful love story.

Well, confessing was just the first step.

>>>

The ambiance is not perfect.

Yunho and Mingi are squabbling over the movie choices, Mingi trying to avoid every horror movie on the streaming site (which is impossible, considering that all the movies showing in the month of October are horror movies) while Yunho jumps around dangerously on the sofa with the remote in hand, likely the beginning of their very own Final Destination movie.

“You know,” Hongjoong remarks mildly as he stares at the massive orange thing sitting innocently on the floor of their dorm, “when I said to get a few snacks to get the mood up, I didn’t mean to buy a whole… pumpkin.”

“What other snack is better for the month of Halloween than a pumpkin?” San crows, raising his hand to give Wooyoung a cheeky high-five. Seonghwa stands at the doorway of the kitchen, fingers pressed to his temples in an attempt to face reality, while Hongjoong lets out a pained sigh before he knows what he’s doing. Stumbling to sit at the dining table, he puts his head into his hands with only one very clear thought in mind; San is clearly the villain of his own love story.

“Wooyoung.” Hongjoong says, disappointment dripping from every syllable. “You let San buy a pumpkin.”

“Yep! Oh, come on, it can’t be that terrible. Seonghwa-hyung can always make pumpkin soup or something some other day. It’s not that important.” The energetic dancer waves it off with a mischievous grin, until he sees the desperate, dark glow practically emanating off his leader in waves and a bead of cold sweat runs down his back, survival instinct setting off a thousand screeching sirens in his head.

“Tonight needs to be perfect.” Hongjoong stresses the last syllable with so much emphasis that Wooyoung squeaks, involuntarily moving to take a step behind San (as if he’ll be able to protect Wooyoung from Hongjoong in his demon wrath). Then a switch clicks in his mind, it comes to him and his mouth falls open in horror. “Oh, no.”

“Oh, no.” Hongjoong seethes in reply, inconsolable, Wooyoung shrinking back from his leader’s glare. Yeosang simply sighs and shrugs, disappointed but not exactly surprised, Yunho and Mingi even pausing in their little wrestle match to wince simultaneously.

San glances quizzically between the two of them in confusion when he finally catches on that there are some underlying ideas that aren’t being made privy to him. 

“What’s going on-” San begins to say, but suddenly there’s a ring of the doorbell and everyone freezes, the remote dropping from Yunho’s hand to knock painfully into Mingi’s nose.

Hongjoong lets out a little, pained noise and slams his face into the table top.

“Were we expecting anyone? All of us are here, aren’t we?” San asks, doing a headcount and not seeming to notice that everyone is glued to the floor, frozen in place like badly arranged shop window mannequins. “Is it Manager-hyung? I’ll go get the door.”

“It’s ruined.” He hears Hongjoong groan as he steps over to open the door, simply frowns. Their manager won’t scold them for messing up the apartment just a little, will he? There isn’t such a big deal.

He opens the door.

Oh.

Then a few more neurons fire weakly and die. Shit.

“Hi, Hongjoong, I’m sorry I got your message late and was in a little bit of a rush coming here, have you guys started without me already?” You’re standing outside the door rummaging through your bag, looking for something, damp hair tossed back by the cold autumn wind just how he likes it and smelling of the city, dressed in a soft peach sweater that used to be his and earrings that he bought you last Christmas. 

“It’s you.” San manages to croak out, he sounds like a dying frog, onstage devil, smooth as butter, offstage idiot, walking disaster, he reprimands himself belatedly, staring at you while his mind screams at him in thirty different languages that include Orcish and Latin and runs in tiny circles around his brain. You aren’t supposed to be here.

You continue to look up at him, smiling warmly, prettily with cheeks flushed peach pink that matches the sweater, his sweater, from the rush to their dorm and he simply gapes back, because his mind is not cooperating, motor functions are shutting down without his permission and he is losing all executive command.

“Uhm…” You begin softly and he snaps to attention, looking around frenziedly while you’ve clearly been standing in front of him the entire time and haven’t moved an inch, he hears Hongjoong let out an agonized groan behind him. “Are you going to let me in, Sanshine?”

It’s that nickname again, and christ, he can’t deal with how cute you are-

“Oh my god, get out of the doorway.” A hand latches hard onto the back of his shirt and drags him away, Hongjoong turning to greet you with a warm, welcoming smile. “Hi! Glad you could make it in time, and I’m sorry for the last minute invite too. Come in! The guys are excited to see you!”

“Thank you!” You chirp, stepping in, and the only thing San can think of is ‘they all knew you were coming except for him?’

“Hey!” There’s a chorus of welcomes as you step into the dorm, waving at all of them merrily until you spot the massive pumpkin just sitting in the middle of the dorm, a little bruised on one side from where Mingi had kicked it accidentally in his battle for the remote. “What is that doing here?”

Hongjoong turns his best smile-glare on Wooyoung and the dancer nearly cowers behind Seonghwa. The eldest shows no sympathy, though, and simply pushes Wooyoung out again to face the full brunt of Hongjoong’s wrath.

“I bought it…” Wooyoung squeaks as Hongjoong’s eyes continue to burn the back of his head to cinders. You pause for a moment, observing the large vegetable, before letting out a sweet laugh and smiling at Wooyoung. “You’re funny. That’s a really cute thing to do during Halloween!”

San sputters something unintelligible and Wooyoung grins bashfully, scratching the back of his head as Hongjoong thanks his lucky stars. Atmosphere, check! Level one, clear! Mission, success! This feels like it’s going to be one of their variety shows at this rate, while San’s secret goal is to sabotage the mission… except that his possible happiness and future is the mission.

“So, let’s start the movie!” Yunho announces and it finally dawns on San what you’re here to do. “Wait… you mean you are joining us for the horror movie marathon?” 

Hongjoong’s mind screams in raw, physical pain.

You balk a little at the words that leaves San’s mouth, eyes becoming a little downcast. “Oh… I’m sorry. Do you not want me here? I know it’s been your yearly tradition, but Hongjoong invited me, so I thought…” Your voice trails off, and an awkward silence descends upon the two of you, every other member in the living room either having a heart attack or screaming because is San trying to ruin things for himself?

“Ah, no, no, no, that’s not what I meant!” San’s mind backpedals frantically, he’s not going to be able to concentrate on any movie while you’re there, but he doesn’t know how to say it, doesn’t think it’ll be appropriate and oh-my-god you just see him as a friend and that’s inappropriate for friends to say and-

“Ha ha ha!” Seonghwa lets out the fakest, most awkward, high pitched laugh you’ve ever heard from him and drags San away by the ear before he can spew anything more stupid from that mouth. “Just ignore San, he doesn’t know what he’s saying, he’s a little silly sometimes, you know!”

Both you and San start at the way Seonghwa is practically insulting the man to his face, but Jongho choruses in from where he’s laying out pillows and an air mattress. “Yeah, hyung’s just a big pabo, so don’t listen to him!” “We’re glad to have you here!” Mingi adds, trying to make a swipe for the remote but misses.

“Pabo?” San pipes up indignantly, squaring up and ready to throttle the younger vocalist (which would probably be a big mistake), but Hongjoong clamps a hand around San’s head and suffocates him before he can say another word. Seonghwa gestures you to a seat on the sofa, talking to you about your day at work and you reply brightly. He’s put out more fires than a veteran fireman tonight, Hongjoong pats himself on the back encouragingly as he drags San to the kitchen to help take out the popcorn, and for the next part of the mission to commence. 

>>>

San’s still rubbing his ear ruefully when he steps out of the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn in hand, sending half-hearted glares in Hongjoong’s direction every once in a while. Wooyoung has turned down the living room lights and everyone is gathered in front of the television, Mingi squeaking in fright every time a clown or child’s face looms up on the recommended list Yunho is currently scrolling through.

“Ahh, you guys are back!” Yeosang says cheerfully, much too cheerfully, to San’s suspicion. “Here, we saved seats for you.”

Faster than San can blink, Hongjoong is diving onto the air mattress with a whoop, shouting “I claim dibs!” and effectively drawing a cry of pained protest from Wooyoung who was already lying on the matress. Sighing, San looks around for another available seat and sees only one left.

Next to you, on the couch, with barely enough space left for half of him, let alone all of him. He’ll be all pressed up against you, soft and warm next to him, and no. Running a hand through dark hair as he tries to plot out his next course of action that won’t leave him a bumbling idiot in front of you, he’s resigned to sitting on the floor when Hongjoong pipes up.

“There’s a seat on the couch.”

San frowns. “There is?”

Hongjoong’s eyes are almost luminous in the dark with the intensity of his gaze. “There. Is. Room. On. The. Couch.”

A shiver goes down San’s spine at the uncharacteristically terrifying stare. “Yes sir.” But you wave your hands, clearly apologetic, shaking your head as you rise to stand. “Oh no, it’s alright, I can sit on the floor if there’s no space.”

“No!” Both Hongjoong and San rush to stop you immediately, the latter sliding in next to you on the couch, honestly, it’s too tight of a squeeze and there are a myriad of nervous butterflies fluttering in his stomach that feel more like a hive of angry bees. There isn’t enough space for his upper body to fit comfortably, so he raises one arm around your shoulder, not quite touching awkwardly because the two of you are just friends and it’s not appropriate- 

Yeosang buries his face in his hands. Part Two of Mission Pabo was not going well.

“Is this okay?” San grunts uncomfortably as he shimmies in next to you, trying to find the most comfortable position he can in the limited space. You look up at him in worry and suddenly your eyes, soft and dark in the faint light of the room. “Yeah, I’m fine, but isn’t this uncomfortable for you?” You shift next to him and San gasps at the feeling of your hand brushing against the bare skin of his torso where his shirt has ridden up just a little, but it’s like a jolt of electricity running through his veins. He jerks away on instinct, but in doing so, the hand around your shoulder smacks into your cheek and you yelp in pain.

San is about ready to jump out of the closest window to save himself the embarassment, but then he remembers that they’re on the first floor and he wishes desperately for the floor to just open up and swallow him whole (swallow him hole, ha).

“Are you alright?” Hongjoong rushes to ask in concern, fingertips gently brushing your cheek as he checks the area and San screams internally. “I’m so sorry, San is a bit of a pabo so please forgive him! He doesn’t mean anything by it.”

Yeosang slumps against the wall with a soft cry of secondhand embarrassment and Mingi pats his head comfortingly.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” You reassure Hongjoong and turn to beam at San warmly, his heart stops. “Let’s just start the movie, okay?”

“Okay.” He manages to breathe, and wonders how he’s going to continue doing that for the next few hours with you by his side.

>>>

The movie starts off well, or well, at least well as the chaotic eight of them could get. Wooyoung shouts and throws chocolates at the leads of Conjuring for making bad life decisions, while Mingi’s so terrified of every childlike image after Annabelle that he screams when Boss Baby appears in the recommended. San’s so enraptured in watching Final Destination that he doesn’t seem to notice that his arm is slipping down, resting partially on the couch behind you and your shoulder. Content, you simply snuggle quietly into his side, screaming when Mingi screams and looking up at San shyly when he lets out little chuckles, amused at your antics, handsome face illuminated by the light of the next ghost.

When the reindeer monster in The Ritual impales another camper through a tree, you squeak and turn your face away from the movie, but the only thing there is the crook of San’s neck, and you squeeze your eyes shut against the warm skin there. There’s a hitch of breath, a soft gasp drawn through parted lips, and his pulse hammers furiously against the tip of your nose, but that’s because of the movie, right? Not because… not because he thinks that…

A negative little feeling pokes its way into your chest and you find yourself drawing your face from San’s neck, slightly melancholy. As if he’s attuned to your emotions, San frowns, turns to look at you with concerned eyes, but before he can say a word, you rise to your feet.

“I think I’m gonna go get some snacks.” You announce suddenly, stepping over a confused Jongho and Seonghwa to get to the kitchen. Hongjoong is on the verge of tears. “San, what did you do?” He whisper-yells the second you leave the room, and San fumbles to save his ear before Hongjoong can pull it off. “I didn’t do anything!”

“Well, maybe you should have done something, then!”

“Huh?”

“I think I’ll go to the kitchen and get some snacks too, I’m terrified…” Mingi whimpers as shadows move across the tent before hands rip through the cloth and drag a screaming camper out by the ankles. Hongjoong tosses a pillow at Mingi’s face.

“You. Are. Not. Scared.” Hongjoong says so dangerously Mingi ponders which is scarier for a second, then decides it’s obviously his leader. He shrinks back under the blanket, eyes peeking out over the edge and this time Yeosang pats him on the head sympathetically. Then their leader turns to San, eyes burning with intensity. “San, how about you go help get the snacks?”

San’s confused. “But I’m not scared and I want to watch the movie-”

“Go.”

San immediately scrambles off the couch and heads for the kitchen as fast as he can, hightailing out of living room before Hongjoong can strangle him again. Sliding the door open, he steps into the kitchen silently, closing it behind him, wondering why tonight has been such a strange night.

You’re standing with your back to him, sprinkling some icing sugar over a batch of cookies that you’d brought over. Stepping over to you, he glances over your shoulder, trying to calm the heart pounding in his chest - it’s just the two of you, alone in the kitchen. “Those look good.”

“Jesus Christ, Sanshine, you scared me!” You cry out and jump backwards in fright, back pressing against San’s chest and he reaches out to straighten you by the arms. “I’m sorry!” He apologises, looking over at the mess he’s caused, icing sugar all over the counter and your fingers. “Just give me a second, I’ll-” He raises one of your hands to his lips, tongue darting out to lick the sweetness off your hands. Maybe he’s just too absorbed in his task and doesn’t hear the little whimper you let out, but his mouth dips over your fingers, dragging his teeth lightly across the skin there and sucking lightly on the tips before letting you go with a satisfied smile, swiping bubblegum pink over his lips. “There, all clean!”

The two of you stare at each other for approximately another ten seconds, you with your mouth hanging wide open, San still proud of himself for clearing up the mess until his brain catches up with what he’s just done, and how very inappropriate for friends it is.

San barely manages to hold in his scream just as a round of horrified high pitched shouts come from the living room, they reflect the state his mind is in all too well. He’s screwed things up, and now there will be no more relationship, let alone friendship, and-

After several deep breaths and near heart attacks, he manages to breathe, unable to look you in the eye. “Well… how about we just…” He drags a breath in, dragging a hand through his hair harshly, “go back out there and forget this ever happened?” The silence continues, and he holds in a little whimper. “Please?”

His plea hangs in the empty silence that stretches between the two of you, and San is convinced that he’s just made the biggest screw up of his life, this friendship is over, that Jongho was right and he is the biggest pabo-

“I don’t want to.”

Huh?

You raise your hand, and there’s a dangerous, playful glint in your eye that he can’t help but feel like he’s going to get burned by. “This is pretty… inappropriate for friends, wouldn’t you say?”

That’s what I’ve been saying this entire night! His subconscious hollers, but San forcibly wrenches him from the mental steering wheel and throws him into the backseat, mind still completely blank and uncomprehending. Nameless speech organs seemed to have lodged themselves in his mouth and throat, and butchering his attempt of a ‘what do you mean’ into a mangled ‘whu- don’t- huh?’

You laugh, a sweet, dangerous chuckle that sends a shiver down his spine and step forward, San unconsciously taking one back, another, another, and another until the small of his back hits the kitchen island and he has nowhere else to escape, but you’re still closing the distance between the two of you, and his heart leaps into his mouth, pulse thundering haywire - this can’t be good for his cardiac health.

Then your arms are coming up to brace themselves on the kitchen counter and he’s trapped, irises blown wide and cheeks flushed as you lean in close, more close than appropriate, completely inappropriate for friends, and there’s a little voice that keeps screaming in his head, he actually might be on the verge of a heart attack, and-

“How about this?” You whisper, and a shudder wrecks his spine, a coy smile that is, too, entirely inappropriate for this situation playing on your lips, his breaths are coming out in short little pants and he doesn’t know what or how to think. “Is this inappropriate for friends too?”

“Very.” He finds himself replying, voice weak, and instantly finds an urge to cover his face in embarrassment, what on earth is he saying? But before he can, one of your hands pins his wrist to the counter next to him with barely any force and he feels his knees go weak, because that’s sexy as hell, and then you’re leaning in, leaning in closer…

The first slide of your lips against his and he forgets how to breathe.

It’s soft, electric, barely there but sends fire and ice racing over his body and his head spins, a soft whine muffled against your lips, you taste like impulse and desire and cherry sweet not friend appropriate intent, and he nearly collapses against the counter, elbows propped against the cool marble surface barely serving to keep him upright. 

You pull away, but not far, still close enough to feel his hitching breath tickling your face in little, breathy puffs, watching as he tries to claw the remains of his self control back together. His head has fallen back to expose the underside of his jaw and the hollow of his throat, and while you feel a near irrepressible urge to kiss and taste the skin there, you stave it off, delayed gratification, you promise yourself. His eyelids flutter dazedly, slivers of dark brown flitting between between glancing at you and flinching away, raw emotion pooling in the corners of his eyes.

Oh, he is so beautiful to watch like this.

Your lips meet again, a little deeper this time, and he whispers your name hot against your mouth. When you part your lips just a little to drag the tip of your tongue across his bruised lower lip, he keens, melting against you and you press him against the kitchen island with your hands on his hipbones, “can’t have you fainting on me now, can I?”

And then you’re pulling away, finally, blessedly, regrettably and he manages to crack one eye open, chest still heaving for breath and wondering how he’s still alive as you smile innocently at him, tongue darting out to flick against the corner of your mouth. “There.” You tell him softly, holding his gaze the entire time with some sort of dark intensity lurking beneath the surface, voice somewhere between a purr and a rasp. “All clean.”

His words? Thrown back at him. His mind? Left in shambles? Hotel? Trivago.

He needs to visit a cardiologist tomorrow.

“Clean.” He manages to repeat, voice hoarse, and then you’re grinning so cheerfully that San has whiplash, you take him by the hand and lead him back outside, where everyone is still watching the movie. You slide back onto your seat and pat the space next to you. San sits, a little gingerly, and you shift, so that you’re almost half in his lap, and tuck his arm around your waist, burying your face in the crook of his neck just like you were earlier. His pulse picks up again, fluttering against your cheek and you smile, letting your eyes squeeze close, feeling happier than you have for the first time in months.

Silently, San draws you in, arms wrapping tightly around your waist as he pulls you closer, plants a soft kiss on your temple and leans his cheek against the top of your head, closing his eyes as the last camper finally escapes the forest.

From the air mattress, Wooyoung and Hongjoong fist bump and do a dab.

>>>

He’s awoken by a clicking sound. 

“I’m keeping these forever.”

“I’m never going to let this go down. I’m going to write it down, my kids will know about it, my great great grand kids will know about, then I’m going to sell the USB to his kids as blackmail-”

San grunts, batting against the noise as a sleepy haze tries to pull him back under, there’s an abrupt silence and then furious whispering. Unfortunately, San is far too removed from dreamland to return to sleep now and stretches his back, or rather, attempts to.

He realises he can’t properly feel his legs and blinks his eyes open sleepily, trying to spot the reason for his discomfort and seeing oh-

You’re curled up in his lap and against his chest, each soft breath puffing against his neck and hands fisted in the fabric of his shirt. Even though he probably really should get you to move before he loses all feeling in his legs, he’s loathe to do so, instead staring down at you with unreadable eyes, chest tightening.

“Rise and shine!” Hongjoong yawns, looking bright and cheery, which is… unsettling to say the least. He taps you on the shoulder and you grumble, still soft and sleepy and so adorable that San swears there are flowers growing in his heart, burying your face in his neck as if that would hide you from the rest of the world.

Rest of the world.

San looks up and sees the rest of his members already wide awake and staring expectantly at him, minus Yunho who is still completely crashed on the air mattress. That doesn’t make things a lot better. He feels his cheeks burning in an instant and Wooyoung lets out a seal like laugh, San picks up a minion plush and tosses it at his best friend while Hongjoong rushes to save it.

“Hey.” He grabs your wrist and tugs gently, and you finally sit up and rub the sleep from your eyes. Oh, he thinks. Damn, he adds. He’s whipped.

“We didn’t mean to wake you up, but you should be getting home before peak hour.” Yeosang supplies helpfully, and San can’t help but mourn a little for the loss of your weight on his thigh, even though his legs are crying for joy. You nod, grab your things and head for the door, Hongjoong gives San a stern stare. “San, show her out.”

San doesn’t protest this time, moving over to the door where you’re slipping on your shoes and patting down your hair, he leans against the door frame and simply looks, watches until he can bring the words to pass his lips.

“So…” San begins, and you glance up at him curiously. “I…. I wanted to say that… to ask if… we could be…”

More, his heart and mind chorus. Inappropriate, another part of him adds with a gleeful little chuckle, and he claps that bit into the dustbin and slams the lid on top.

“I’ve had enough of this.” Hongjoong storms over and San glances over in confusion at his tiny leader near bursting with rage, but Hongjoong grabs San by the shoulders, spins him to face you squarely and shakes him a little. “Spit it out, San! I’ve heard it a thousand and one times already, so it should be easy for you to recite by now, shouldn’t it?”

San gapes in horror. “I-”

You laugh. “It’s okay, Hong, I think I already know what he wants to say.” Hongjoong blinks in confusion, but you turn to San, smile radiantly and lean forward to press a gentle kiss to his lips, they still taste like sugar. San merely stands there, frozen as a petrified tree as you step back and wave, to the rest of the boys in the room. “Bye, guys! Bye, Yunho! Thanks, Seonghwa!” The oldest salutes, his other hand pressed firmly across the maknae’s eyes as he complains and struggles to get out of his grasp.

Then you’re gone.

Hongjoong waits a whole minute for San to react as Seonghwa and Jongho squabble in the back, and when San doesn’t, still staring blankly out of the door, he moves forward to tap San on the shoulder. “Um… San-ie? You okay there? Did we break your brain or anything?”

San turns around slowly, a befuddled expression on his face as he glances up to look at his leader, blinking slowly, fingertips pressed to his lips in amazement.

“But Hongjoong-hyung… that was completely inappropriate for friends…”

Wooyoung and Hongjoong scream.

>>>

Some time ago…

“Mission Pabo Part Three: Surveillance, begin!” Hongjoong whispers the second San disappears into the kitchen and Wooyoung immediately drags a tablet out from under the air mattress, placing it on the couch as the rest of the members crowd around it, Mingi excluded, who’s still too terrified to expose himself to the evil spirits held at bay by his blanket. Yeosang fiddles with the buttons on the app, scrolling through channels as the rest hiss at him to hurry up.

“Shh! I’m trying.” Yeosang whispers back huffily, tapping on several tabs and channels. Jongho shifts closer to the screen, trying to see the feed over Seonghwa’s shoulder, who’s a few inches from losing balance and frowns. Honestly, did his hyungs think this kind of stupid strategy would work? “Kitchen… kitchen… there it is!” 

Immediately his hyungs scream, Yeosang very nearly tossing the whole tablet into the air. Jongho makes a face of disgust and moves to pick up the fallen device, but before he can take another step, Seonghwa pounces right on him, shoving a pillow over his face as he screeches for Wooyoung to turn the damned thing off. 

Jongho never finds out what happened in that kitchen.


End file.
